A Snake Entwining Flowers

“Are you alright?”

The voice that came from above her head was as cold and smooth as a snake’s scales. She wanted to see his face, but the backlight only revealed his silhouette. He seemed to be a young man.

He patiently waited for her to answer, as she was momentarily lost in thought. Then he asked again.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Ah…”

Only then did Charlotte come to her senses and fumble for words. The cold voice returned, as if someone had poured ice water down her neck.

“Do I need to ask twice?”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you very much.”

She startled and hurriedly shook her head. The man’s face was still hidden in the shadows, but something else caught her eye belatedly. His riding suit was simple in design, but they were clearly expensive. Charlotte’s instincts told her that he was a young man who was wealthy enough to ride a horse around here and carried a gun.

She hurriedly took off her bonnet and bowed respectfully.

“Thank you again, my lord.”

“Do you know me?”

“You must be Richard, the younger brother of the Earl of Kensington, are you not? I am Charlotte Hegel, the daughter of Cynthia Hegel.”

There was a good reason for her guess. As far as Charlotte knew, there were only a few people in this area with such wealth — the Kensington family. The Earl himself was said to be in his forties, and his sons were young. That left only one person: the Earl’s only brother, Richard Kensington, who was almost twenty years younger than him. The young master whom her mother Cynthia had once cared for.

The man was silent for a moment, as if surprised by her quick thinking. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end with tension. She involuntarily swallowed hard, and at that moment, the deep well-like silence was broken by a voice that seemed to be chanting.

“Mother and daughter don’t look alike at all.”

“Pardon?”

As Charlotte tilted her head, the man spoke as if he had just finished a conversation.

“It would be proper to escort you, but I regret to say that I have an appointment.”

***

Despite what he said, Richard Kensington called for someone through his servant. As she stood alone in the middle of the wilderness, Charlotte soon saw an old man approaching in a carriage. The old man spoke to her in a friendly manner, with a noticeable accent that contrasted with Richard’s.

“Are you Cynthia’s daughter?” the man asked in a friendly tone.

“Yes. My name is Charlotte Hegel.”

“I’m Hans. As you can see, I’m the coachman.”

As soon as he introduced himself, the coachman got down from his seat. Without even being asked, he lifted the luggage bag in Charlotte’s hand and placed it on the carriage loaded with hay. Then he smoothly returned to the driver’s seat he had just been sitting in and gestured to the seat next to him, pointing at Charlotte, who was staring blankly.

“What are you doing? Get in.”

Charlotte hurriedly got in at his words.

It was a place where people lived, even if it was the countryside.

The carriage rattled along the dirt road trodden by pedestrians at a neither fast nor slow pace. Hans occasionally shook the reins as the two horses slowed down, and started a conversation.

“Cynthia must have waited a long time.”

“My mother?”

“Yes. You look exactly like your mother.”

Yes. This was the general consensus.

Except for their eye color, mother Cynthia and daughter Charlotte were identical. They were of average height, about 5 feet 3 inches (about 160 cm), with slightly pale white skin and black hair.

However, Richard Kensington, whom she had just seen, had said something different.

Charlotte replied, wondering inwardly.

“I’ve heard that a lot.”

“Is it okay to call you Charlotte?”

“Yes. Please feel free to call me that, Mr. Hans.”

The talkative coachman did most of the talking. The conversation consisted mainly of him asking questions and Charlotte answering them.

“Do you know the name of the place you’re going to?”

“Mistymoor Hall. Right?”

Charlotte answered, searching her memory. That was definitely the name of the Earl of Kensington’s mansion.

Mistymoor.

A misty moor.

It was a name that was honest to the point of being blunt. At the same time, it was a perfect fit.

The distance from the sparsely populated village to Mistymoor Hall was too far to travel on foot, and the surrounding area was nothing but wilderness. To make matters worse, when it rained or snowed, a low fog would cover the area, making it impossible to see anything. However, if you made it through the fog, you would find a magnificent mansion with a beautiful garden. It was a strangely unreal place, like a mirage.

“You know well. That’s right.”

Hans gave a nod, his face breaking into a pleased smile after hearing the correct answer. Now, it was Charlotte’s turn to ask, and she did so with a hint of caution.

“How’s mother feeling these days?”

“It’s quite serious, I’m afraid. Just yesterday, she was sick enough to vomit a significant amount of blood.”

“And…how long does she have?”

The word ‘blood’ drained the color from Charlotte’s face. Hans made a tsk sound, as if he had anticipated this reaction.

“The doctors are saying a month, at most.”

“A month…”

The news of Cynthia’s illness, non-communicable pulmonary tuberculosis, had reached Charlotte through a telegram, leaving her in disbelief. She had imagined her mother in better circumstances, living comfortably and enjoying fine meals.

Given the Earl’s deep trust in his longstanding employee, Cynthia’s salary was notably higher than that of other nannies. Yet, despite the privileged environment, it seemed that illness could still find a way to strike.

“But still…” observing the shadow that had fallen over Charlotte’s features, Hans faltered for a moment, then bit his lip, “She’s had the best care available. It’s important you remember that.”

His next words summed it up. Richard Kensington, the man who had saved her earlier, personally brought a doctor who lived far away to the mansion in the middle of the night for Cynthia. It didn’t end there, he also paid for the expensive royal doctor’s fee and medicine at once. However, despite the quick response, Cynthia’s illness was already in its terminal stage.

“The Earl is truly a remarkable person. It’s rare to find someone who would go to such lengths for a former nanny, let alone an employee.”

“Yes, indeed…”

Charlotte nodded quietly in response to Hans’s words, recalling the scene she had witnessed just moments before. A man who shot a wolf dead without a moment’s hesitation. In that moment, alongside relief, fear surged within her, much like prey in the wild recognizing a predator hidden in the darkness.

However, she began to think that her instinct might have been a misjudgment. First impressions can be wrong, after all. Ignoring the voice inside her that said otherwise, she forced herself to come to that conclusion.

Hans, perhaps thinking her silence was due to deep sorrow, tactfully kept quiet. In the silence, Charlotte’s thoughts drifted and eventually reached her mother, Cynthia.

Looking back, she realized it had been three years since she last saw her mother. Her not-so-affectionate nature played a part, but the infrequency of their meetings was mainly due to financial reasons. Although she had no romantic partner, at twenty, she was at the age where she should start thinking about marriage. Working through vacations and holidays meant double pay, so she couldn’t afford to take a break.

Charlotte pondered how she should reunite with her mother, whom she hadn’t seen in years and was now on her deathbed. Would a simple hug suffice? Or should she kiss her on both cheeks? Even for a parent and child, that might be too much. Yet, not doing so felt like she would be a heartless daughter.

While she was lost in these seemingly trivial worries, the dense fog gradually lifted, and her vision cleared. Hans, who had been silently looking ahead, soon announced their arrival.

“We’re almost there.”

At his words, Charlotte looked up, and her mouth fell open at the sight. A majestic stone mansion stood before them.

The garden was adorned with neatly trimmed bushes and sprawling red heather flowers. Mistymoor Hall, with its mysterious and antique charm, seemed to hold the essence of bygone eras.

Soon, the carriage smoothly turned a corner and approached the service entrance at the back of Mistymoor Hall, where the staff were allowed to enter. Charlotte clasped her trembling hands.

“It’s been a long time, Charlotte.”

“Ma’am.”

The one to greet Charlotte upon her arrival was the housekeeper, Janice. With the Earl of Kensington not employing a butler, she held the highest position among the staff. Now approaching fifty, she was the experienced and esteemed commander of Mistymoor Hall.

As Charlotte stepped down from the carriage, Janice approached her more closely.

“Have you been well in the meantime?”

“Yes, I’ve been fine.”

“That’s good to hear. The last time I saw you, you were what, sixteen?”

“I was seventeen. It was three years ago.”

Despite her stern demeanor, which often led others to perceive her as strict and demanding, Janice always made an exception for Charlotte. This was because Janice had been long-time friends with Charlotte’s mother, Cynthia.

In the mansion, nannies, housekeepers, and cooks were typically considered senior staff. It was only natural for those of similar status and age to be close.

After a brief hug, Janice wore a quiet smile.

“How time flies. You were just a little girl, and now you look every bit the young lady.”

With a slight blush, Charlotte responded, “Not at all. You seem younger than ever, ma’am.”

“I know it’s just flattery, but it does make me happy.”

After exchanging these pleasantries, they ascended the back stairs reserved for the staff, a path Charlotte had often taken. At the top, under the roof, was Cynthia’s room. As they climbed the stairs, Janice spoke up.

“You’ll share a room with your mother. Cynthia has taken her medicine and is asleep now. It’s a mix of painkiller and sleeping aid, so she probably won’t wake up until the evening.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m truly sorry things have turned out this way.”

Janice’s face showed genuine sorrow. After all, the fact that a colleague of over ten years was gravely ill was a sad and worrying situation for anyone. Considering the time spent together, Janice had arguably been with Cynthia longer than Charlotte, her own daughter. With this thought, Charlotte gave a bitter smile and shook her head.

“No… I’ve been told she received all possible treatments. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

The mansion had a total of four floors, including the basement. As they passed the second landing, they finally reached their destination on the top floor.

“Charlotte.”

This was as far as Janice would accompany her. Janice stopped walking ahead.

“Today’s Sunday, so the Earl and his family, as well as all the mansion’s staff, have gone to church. It’s quiet. You can greet the Earl and his wife at lunch.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened at the mention of ‘Sunday.’ Indeed, it was the last day of the week, a day for attending services, when people of all ranks dressed in their finest and listened to the parish priest’s sermon. At that moment, a voice echoed in her ears.

 

 

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